Heir
by Sanji
Summary: Animorphs Fan-fiction.....part 1 of a series


Prologue  
  
iAbout a year ago. . . /i  
  
"Report iLinti/i 127."  
Rina Alen, the communications officer aboard the Earth shuttle answered to the commander back on Trinte.  
"We are ready to go to Maximum Burn."  
"Next report?"  
"We will report in 15 isundas/i, two solar cycles destination time."  
"Good. Permission to go to Maximum Burn."  
"Thank you commander. iLinti/i 127 out."  
Rina turned to her partner, the pilot of the shuttle.  
"Adral? We're cleared for Maximum Burn."  
"It's our first mission; don't act so official." He prepared for Maximum Burn. "Are the iKintas/i ready?"  
"Yes, Adral, they have been for some time now." She dropped the facade and spoke with a rising mixture of excitement and annoyance. "Come on, let's do it!"  
"And base. . ."  
"Yes! iJakin!/i Now, can we just get it on with it?"  
"Fine, Rina-che. And mind your language."  
She smiled sweetly. "iOpinam./i"   
"Watch it; I'm your superior, after all"  
"Shut up and go."   
  
  
Part One:  
The Heir  
". . .and although the process of evolution has almost certainly occurred on other planets, as of yet we have seen no evidence of life originating outside of Earth. ."  
I looked up from my science book while stifling a laugh and a groan.   
I knew that it was wrong. I'd known since the day I watched my friend Jason writhe in agony as the Yeerk in his head died. Since he told me the truth about the last year of his life. Since I'd seen him killed by a policeman as he was walking to school later that morning.  
The press had called it a case of police brutality; they'd said they'd killed Jason just because he was black. But I'd seen what happened; I knew what was going on. I couldn't even tell anyone that the press was wrong that he'd been killed, because I didn't know who I could trust. Since that moment, I'd known that the book was wrong. That we weren't alone in the universe. That I might be the only one who knew it was wrong, and that I needed to learn as much as I could.   
I had to protect my family, I knew. My mom, my dad, my older sister. All of them. Because I was the only one who knew.  
A few months later, my family moved to the suburbs; my dad said that he didn't want to live in a city where a child could be killed because of the color of his skin. He didn't realize that prejudice was now the least of my worries.  
I thought that my battle was over. That I wouldn't be able to keep tabs on the Yeerks. I didn't think that I'd reach the heart of the Yeerk invasion, that I'd meet others who knew, who could fight. Who were willing to give me the chance to fight.  
But I did. I fought. And I knew--we knew--that the book was wrong about aliens.  
I put my head down on the desk and closed my eyes.  
  
Peter slept in the seat in front of me. Lucky him.  
Mr. Caruso had given us class time to review for our test. Which meant that we were allowed to look at our books the whole period, nothing more. No talking, no doodling, no looking at the boy you hope to be your boyfriend. Nothing to do but study.   
I watched the clock. Five minutes left. Two minutes. One.  
The bell rang, and Peter's head jerked up. I watched as he picked up his backpack and walked out the door.  
His science book laid on the desk, forgotten. I picked it up. Was it his. . .  
Yes, it was.  
I knew that I had to give it back. There was a test to study for.  
I walked out the door, determined to follow him, to give the book back.  
He was at the end of the hallway, talking to someone. Tanya Ivelisse. Ouch.  
I'd give it to him later.  
  
**********************  
  
I hurried down the street and turned into an alley. I was supposed to have been there ten minutes ago, right after school, instead of heading home. I'd written myself a note in my science book to remind me to show up. On time.  
Notes don't work very well if you lose them.   
"Hi," I said as I placed my backpack behind a Dumpster. "Sorry for being late and all."  
"Next time," Marco suggested, "call first. The others are already up. I was elected the waiter."  
I groaned, and quickly began to morph. Bird.   
Flying is one of the rewards for fighting evil; you can take rides that make roller coasters look like merry-go-rounds.  
As feathers and talons replaced skin and spandex, I heard two muffled sounds. One was a gasp. The other was a laugh. A very cold laugh.  
I looked up from the ground, and saw a man standing in the entrance of the alley, grey hair showing just above his ears; he was holding a Dracon Beam, which he had pointed right at us.   
I glanced to the side of me, in an alcove created by a door. There was a girl I vaguely recognized standing there. Holding a science book. She looked scared--no, terrified.  
I turned back to the man, hoping that he hadn't seen where I'd been looking. The girl--Ellen? Erin?--wasn't yelling, "Andalite, didn't seem to be a Controller.   
If he saw her, that would change.  
"So, you're humans? The Visser will be surprised to hear this, when he learns of your demise."  
His hand tightened on the trigger, and I felt an insane urge to shut my eyes. To avoid the end. . .  
Suddenly, I was on the ground, on top of a still-morphing Marco. The red blast traveled above my head. And a voice, in an awed whisper, said "ray guns?"  
The man jerked slightly in surprise, then took aim at all three of us again.  
"Tssseeeeeer!!"  
Suddenly, a red-tailed hawk swooped down, and raked him on the back of the head. His hands flew up, and the Dracon Beam was now airborne.  
It landed near us.   
The man, the Yeerk, the Controller, followed his weapon and reached for it.  
The girl, now lying next to me, grabbed it before he could take it, and pulled the trigger. Once, twice, three times. Two more wild shots, then contact.  
The now-lifeless body laid on the ground. Still.  
The girl--Elena; I remembered her name now, didn't she sit behind me in science?--stared at the Dracon Beam and passed out.  
<Marco! Peter! You guys all right??>  
<We're fine, Jake,> Marco answered.  
Jake didn't answer; instead, he landed on the asphalt with the others and demorphed.  
<Woah, what just happened?> Tobias asked. <Is she another Controller?>  
<I. . .I don't think so. I mean, she's the one who->  
<That's a Dracon beam!> Rachel said.  
<She got it from the dead guy and shot him with it,> Marco said. <And she kept us from getting hit when-> His thought-speak was cut off as he passed the line from mostly-bird to mostly-human.  
<So, she's probably a good guy?>  
"I'd say so," I said, as I finished demorphing. "I think she was just trying to give me this." I picked up the science book, which was laying on the ground. "It's my-"   
I stopped talking as Elena moved and put a hand to her head.  
"That was. . .weird. . .I . . .oh. . .." she said as she realized that we were all standing over her.   
"I have your science book. . ."  
I held up the science book mutely, and she sighed.   
"Oh."   
"Why don't you just come with us?" Cassie suggested calmly. "I promise, we'll explain everything."  
An hour later, we were sitting in Cassie's barn. Elena was looking steadfastly at a raccoon, avoiding everyone.  
I noticed that she was shaking. Afraid, like a little kid. There were tears running down her face.  
We'd decided that telling her the truth was the only way to make sure that she wouldn't talk. Telling her why it would endanger her life if she spoke to anyone.  
She refused to talk to us. She just stared at that raccoon.  
"Hey, don't be scared," I said, trying to calm her down. "Nothing's going to happen to you, as long as you keep quiet. Don't cry."  
She turned away from the raccoon, and faced me. "That guy's dead, isn't he?"  
I nodded.   
"I killed him."  
"He was going to kill-"  
"I didn't iknow!/i" she burst out. "I though that it was, like, Star Trek, and the phasers would just knock him out. I didn't know that; I should have known, and I didn't. And he's dead, and I-"  
Rachel put a hand over her mouth. "Quiet. Now, listen to me. That guy was an alien, deep down inside. And he was very, very bad, and he was going to kill us," she said in a patronizing, claming, talking-to-a-child voice "You did what you had to do."  
Elena looked away.  
"You should be getting home," Jake said. "Your parents are going to worry. We'll check on you tomorrow, though. What grade are you in?"  
No answer.  
"Sixth? Fifth?"  
I cleared my throat, trying to get him to stop before he guessed any younger. Rachel held back a laugh.  
"Do you go to our-"  
"She's in ninth grade, Jake," I said. "She's in my science class. And she has gym with us. Remember?"  
He closed his eyes for a moment, probably imagining our teacher calling attendance, seeing who raised her hand when.  
"Oh, right. I remember now." He turned back to Elena. "We'll talk to you tomorrow, during lunch."  
She nodded sickly and stood up. "Then I can go, right?"  
"Right."  
"Good." I watched her as she headed out the door. Man, she seemed like such a kid. Such an innocent child.  
I felt a strange guilt at pulling her into my world.  
  
********************  
  
Aliens. On Earth.   
My world was spinning as I sat awake in my room at an hour when nothing is supposed to be living.  
There were aliens, and they looked like humans. No, took over humans. Pod people. Body snatchers.  
If someone had told me this before, I would have laughed at them. Made fun of them. I would have run away. I would never have believed them.  
Now, though, it seemed as if I had no choice. I'd seen a ray gun. I'd killed a little green man. . .  
No! He wasn't a little green man. He was human. He was someone's son, brother, father, friend. He was someone's husband. There was someone that loved him. That would never get to see him again. . .  
My feet raced against the carpet and my knees landed on the bathroom tile, while my head bent down and emptied the contents of my stomach into the toilet.  
The guy was dead. I'd killed someone.   
I'd killed.  
It had to be a bad dream.  
  
***************  
  
  
"Listen, if she doesn't get over here, I'm going to go and-"  
"Chill. I'm sure she'll come. Besides, she just went through a lot; give her a little time."  
"She's had enough time already."  
Rachel and Cassie's voices drifted by me as I watched Elena. She was picking at her lunch. Alone. Avoiding even looking our way.  
She looked tired. Dead tired. I wondered how much she'd slept that night, whether she'd slept at all.  
"Hello, Earth to Peter!" Marco jolted me back to our table. "Do you want to stare at her, or do you want to go get her?"  
"Wha-" I said.   
He laughed.   
"Oh! I'll go get her." I pushed my chair away from the table, stood, and walked towards where she was eating.   
"Hey." I took a seat.  
"Hi."  
"Would you like to come sit with us?" I asked brightly. Too brightly. I winced.  
"No."  
"Well, then can we come over-"  
"Save it."  
I sighed, and wagered that she hadn't slept. "Do you want to help us?" I asked, suddenly tired myself.  
"It doesn't matter. Nothing I can do, nothing you can do. What does it matter?"  
"You-. . . fine." I said as I pushed the chair away from the table and got up. "It's your choice. Just--be careful. All right?" I smiled at her half-heartedly and turned away, part of me grateful that she was-  
"Peter?"   
I turned to face her. "Yeah?"  
She stood, with her lunch tray in hand, and walked over to me.   
"I'll do it," she said as she looked up at me with wide eyes. "I'll do it."  
I smiled and took her tray from her hands. "Come on, then."  
We headed, silently, towards the table.  
  
******************  
  
I walked down the hallway at school, distracted, then stopped, opened my backpack, took out my history book and flipped through the pages. The very thing I needed was not there.  
It had been a long night last night; sleepless, really. Way too much going on in my head. I could turn into an animal. I could fly. No sleep could overcome the excitement. I spent the night looking at my ceiling.  
Had I spent that time typing the history paper that was due, I wouldn't be in this mess right now. I needed the paper, typed and ready; almost as much as I needed a good night's sleep. And it was probably on my desk at home.  
Sighing, I walked to my locker and threw my book inside. I'd just have to turn it in late.   
"Hey, what's wrong?" I turned and saw Peter and Marco standing next to my locker.  
"History's wrong, Peter. History is most definitely wrong."  
"Not if you have Paloma," Marco said with a mocking smile.  
I glared at him. "What did I do to deserve this visit?"  
"We're going to Cassie's after school. Just wondering if you want to come with," Peter replied.   
"Sure." I shrugged. "I can go."  
"Great. Well, see ya,"   
"Don't get killed by Kirlin," Marco added as he walked away.  
I stood in front of my locker for another minute, then slammed it shut, muttering something very impolite as I did so.  
"Ahem. Young lady?" I turned around. Chapman was standing behind me. "What exactly did you say."  
"Nothing. Why?" I looked up at him innocently, and hoped that he would buy it.   
"That's what I thought. Carry on." Carry on. Typical, overloarding, Chapman.   
He turned around, and told Ken Patton to take off his headphones. I slipped away while he was distracted, and went to class.  
Later that day, my paper still wasn't done. Mr. Kirlin gave me the lecture about responsibility, my C+ in the class when I could obviously do better.   
I ignored him.  
The paper had to be done by Monday if I wanted to pass the course. With a D.  
I decided to go to his room after school and play upon his humanity.  
iAssuming that he has any,/i I thought. I was about to open the door when I heard voices. Quiet voices. I ducked into the bathroom entrance and strained to hear.  
"I don't care what it takes. The Visser wants that chemical by tomorrow!" The angry voice was Chapman's.  
"It can't be finished that fast. It takes time for the reaction to. . ."  
"Tomorrow. The spraying has to be done the next day. The helicopters are only available then. The government believes that the medicine for the trees will be sprayed on that day. It must be ready."  
"Yes, sir. I'll deliver it to the military facility on time," I heard Mr. Kirlin's voice say.  
Chapman laughed. "The Andalite bandits won't survive this attack. As long as we tell no one. There is a leak somewhere in the system. We must be sure this information doesn't reach it."  
Oh, God. Chapman was a Yeerk. Kirlin was a Yeerk. Were there any humans left? Any at all?  
My knees shook violently, and I struggled to keep from screaming.  
"Yes, I understand, sir."  
The door opened and Chapman walked out. I ducked into the depths of the bathroom in shock.  
I wasn't going to talk to Kirlin now. I didn't want to deal with that. I never wanted to see either of them again. I just wanted to forget about it. I wanted to go home and sit in front of the television. I wanted to ride along the sidewalks leisurely, and to forget about all the secrets.   
I didn't want to have to warn them. I didn't want to have to do anything. But I had to. I didn't want to. But I didn't want the alien. . .Ax. . . to die.   
I walked quickly out of the school and then ran for my bike.   
"Erek said that the new entrance was at. . . where were you?" Jake said, pausing his speech as I stepped off my bike and ran into the barn.  
"Listen. . .I found out. . .something. . .very important," I gasped as I struggled to catch my breath.  
"What is it?"  
I tried to steady myself on a bale of hay. "The Yeerks are going to spray. . .some chemical on. . .the forest. It sounded like. . . it's deadly to Andalites. They're going to. . .to spray it on Sunday."  
My legs gave out from underneath me; I had ridden top-speed nonstop to Cassie's. The entire four-and-a-half miles.  
Peter walked over and offered me his hand. "You all right?"  
"Yeah. . .I'm fine. Just tired." I turned an appealing shade of red and picked a piece of hay out of my hair as I stood up.  
Ax looked troubled. "It must be Olant-twelve. Elve. Vvvvve. That would kill only Andalites. It would make the grass poisonous to us, also. And it would last for a very long time. Iiiiime. Tuh-ime."  
"So that means we can't let this happen," Rachel said fiercely.  
"Would it kill anything else?" Cassie asked this worriedly. "That would blow their cover."  
"No. Only me. It bonds to the bio-"   
"We don't need the Alien Science 101 description of this, Ax," Marco interrupted. "Can the rest of us handle this chemical?"  
"Yes. Ssss."  
"Then we get rid of it."  
"Where is it?" Jake asked me.  
"I don't know exactly."  
"You don't know?" His voice was too calm. He was playing the part of "strict leader." The last thing that I needed.  
"They didn't exactly announce it." I clenched my jaw before I spoke again. "He said a military base. There are some around here, right?"   
"There's Zone 91, but it's farther away, and we know that they don't have men there. And there's Archer airfield. That one's just outside of town."  
"So it's probably going to be there," Rachel said.  
"Ax? Is there any way to change the chemical? To make it not harmful?" Peter asked, not so impatiently as Jake.  
"Yes, many ways. There is this powder, sodium bicarbonate, which you call 'baking soda,' that will combine with the Olant-twelve to make it not harmful. It also freshens your refrigerator and keeps smells from migrating from-"  
"We know, Ax. We all saw that thrilling installment of 'These Messages.' Right after your stories. So, tell me, are Skye and-"  
Jake sighed and cut Marco off. "How much baking soda are we talking about?"  
"Not very much. The substance is very hard to make and you need very little to poison an area. Maybe one or two of your pounds."  
We all groaned. "We might as well need a truck full of it," Marco said. "How are we going to get two pounds of baking soda into a military base guarded by Yeerks?"  
We all pondered that for a moment. Then Jake spoke.  
"We're going to have to fly it in. Someone will have to morph bird and carry it in. The rest of us. . . the rest of us will have to clear a path. Except Ax," Jake added. "You should stay behind. There's no use in getting you anywhere near this stuff if it can kill you, and not us."  
"But if I am in morph, Prince Jake. . ."  
"We can't risk it. You could get doused in the stuff. Or you could get trapped. And don't call me Prince."  
He looked at the ground. "Yes, Prince Jake."  
"We meet here tomorrow afternoon. Then we get rid of this stuff," he finished.  
The next day, we all met Cassie's again. I found out that Mr. Kirlin called my parents about my lack of a report. End result: I was grounded, again, and when I got back from this, I was going to be toast.   
We all went into bird morph. Rachel carried the baking soda, since her eagle can carry more than any of the other birds.  
We had fun dive-bombing and climbing the thermals on the way there to keep out minds off the mission. Pure distraction, but it was fun.  
As we got closer, we realized our incredible luck; the Orlando-12, or whatever it was, was being transferred from two huge buckets into the spraying device near the chopper.  
<This is going to be easy!> Rachel exclaimed. <The container's even open!>  
<Uh-uh,> Marco said. <Look at what they're carrying.>  
With our amazing bird's eyes we looked. They were each carrying a Dracon Beam. And there were guards all around the base.  
<What do we do?> I wondered, not aware that I was using thought-speak.  
<What did I say before?> Peter answered. <We clear a path!>  
With that, we all headed towards the guards nearest the containers, while Rachel headed for the container itself. I was on Kirlin, extracting my revenge about the report.  
I saw Rachel come in, struggling, with the five pounds of baking soda that we had brought to be on the safe side. It was in a paper bag.  
There was a blur; one of the others ripped the bag open! The stuff was falling in the container.  
It started bubbling, then exploded with surprising force. The shock wave slammed into me, but gave me a much needed boost for take off.  
I heard someone yell <Meet back at Cassie's!> So I headed there, hoping that everyone had made it out of the explosion. . .  
  
****************  
  
I flew back to Cassie's barn, battered and bruised. The shock wave had hit me hard, and I wasn't sure if I could make it.  
Carefully, I landed in the hayloft and demorphed, first checking to make sure that no one else, no one who didn't know the secret, was here.  
Man, demorphing was hard. I felt like I was encased in glue, fighting for every change.  
A good five minutes later, I climbed down the ladder, and found myself facing the others. Ax, Rachel, Jake, Elena, Tobias and Cassie. No Marco.  
Jake's eyes were red. Swollen. Had he been crying? I looked at the others. Cassie's cheeks were wet. Elena was pale. Tobias looked sick.  
"What's wrong?" I asked. "What happened?"  
No one said anything, not until Rachel spoke haltingly.  
"You were five minutes over the limit. And Marco isn't back yet." The words ifigure it out/i were silently attached.  
"We're going back in to get him. Maybe he's demorphed and hiding. Maybe he's still in morph. But we have to. . ."  
". . .get him out of there," I finished. "But we can't all go. It's too obvious. Besides, if. . .I mean. . .we shouldn't all be in one place anymore. Not until we're. . .sure." I winced at my own words, and at the look in Jake's eyes as I said them.  
It was true, though. If, through some weird occurrence, Marco was a Controller, we couldn't be together anymore. We'd have to leave. Split up. Even for missions.  
Jake understood this, and nodded.   
"I'm in," Rachel said, before anyone had a chance to ask. Ax shook his head "yes," and Jake, obviously, was not going to be kept away.   
Then, I saw something that made me burn, somewhere inside. Elena had her hand raised.  
I almost laughed, then cried. She looked so cute, so childlike with her hand in the air and her jaw set. The look on her face, however, wasn't childish at all. It was anguished.  
"I'm going. It's my fault we went there, so I'm going."  
I didn't know what to say. I couldn't get my mouth to move. Inside, I could only think one word: No.  
I couldn't let her go into something that could be a trap. She was too immature, too new at this, too innocent to go. She'd only get hurt.  
"You don't have any powerful morphs," I said, trying to phrase myself carefully while looking at Jake, hoping he'd take my side. "I don't want you to get-"  
"I don't care, and you can't order me around! It's my fault, and-"  
"It's not!" I screamed before I could get a hold of myself.   
Elena stepped back as though I had slapped her, then headed for the door and disappeared.  
I sighed, then turned back to the others, speechless. Jake looked at me, as though he expected me to follow. When he saw that I wasn't going to, he spoke.  
"All right. Rachel, Ax, and I are going to go. The rest of you-"  
". . should split up, away from home, and lay low. Just in case," I said, as I found my voice. "I think we already know."  
<What about me?> a new, voice said. Thought speak. And no one was morphed.  
Jake's eyes went wide. "Marco?!"  
<The one and only.> An osprey landed on a bench and began, slowly, to become human.  
Jake started laughing. Then, so did Rachel. Cassie. Even I was laughing.  
Then, suddenly, I remembered something, and headed for the barn door as Marco became human again.  
I was only thirty feet from the entrance when I--literally--bumped into Elena.  
She was walking across the path, away from the barn. Well, maybe walking isn't the right word. Storming, stomping, running; those were more accurate.  
As I hit her, she stumbled backwards, and started to fall. I grabbed her arm to steady her.  
"Hey, listen, I'm sorry that I said that you wouldn't be able to help."  
"You didn't say that until now. Is that what you think??"  
She was not making this any easier.  
"No, that's not what I think. It's just that I-"  
"That you what? That you didn't think I could handle it?"  
"I know that you could have handled it."  
"Yet you said I shouldn't go."  
"Yes."  
She paused, eyes closed. I thought that maybe I could see tears escaping.  
"Fine. Whatever. Just get out of my way." She pushed me away, a bit roughly, and hurried towards her house.  
I sighed. That had gone well.  
I just didn't want her to get hurt. The thought scared me, for some reason.  
Quietly, I walked towards the barn.  
  
***********************  
  
I was still mad at Peter. No matter how I tried, I couldn't figure him out.  
I liked him, that much I knew. I'd known it since he'd first moved here, about three months ago. Before I even knew about the Yeerks, or the Animorphs, I'd had a crush on him.  
Of course, now the like was replaced by annoyance. Anger.  
I figured that he thought I was too stupid, too weak to be able to help. He'd even said as much.  
When we met next, a week later, the tension was high. Peter was avoiding my eyes. I was glaring at him.  
The others did their best to ignore it, although Jake periodically put his hand to his head, as though he had a really bad headache.  
I knew that he just wanted us to act like mature, responsible adults. However, I wasn't feeling very mature, so I continued to glare, and Peter continued to avoid.  
"Tom's been even more into The Sharing lately. Tobias has been watching him, and we think that Yeerks are planning something. Again."  
"Great," I sighed. "Do you people ever get a day off?"  
"You ain't seen nothing, yet," Marco said with a cocky smile.  
"There seem to be a lot of Yeerks from other areas here lately. They might just be having a meeting, or they might be getting ready to attack. We don't know," Peter's voice was surprisingly uninflected.   
"Who's for spying?" Jake asked.  
Every hand went up, including my own.  
"They're meeting right now. We can just make it. Anyone have to be home soon?"  
Marco looked at me maliciously. "I think that Elena has to get home before her parents worry about their little--hey!" he yelled as I kicked him in the shins, too angry to even speak.  
"Marco, just shut up, all right?" Peter snapped, surprising me.  
"I don't have to be home until seven," I said quietly, avoiding everyone's eyes and trying not to show how deeply the words cut; I hated being treated like a baby. Like Peter treated me. "I'm cool for this."  
"Good. Then we go now?" Jake said as he began to morph falcon.  
I was beginning to wonder if anyone ever morphed anything that wasn't a bird, but I morphed into a kestrel anyway.  
Flying to the meeting, once everyone was morphed, was trying. I was definitely the smallest bird; I had to flap hard just to keep up with everyone. And the ride was long. It took forty-five minutes of flying before we found the meeting.  
We arrived at a small clump of trees along the beach just as Chapman was beginning to speak.  
He first talked about funding, and other, mundane, details. It was the kind of thing you would expect any club to worry about.   
I began to zone, bored out of my skull. We'd been there for another forty-five minutes, and hadn't heard anything incriminating. Then Chapman dropped the bombshell, at least for us.  
". . .and, with the week of ritual almost upon us, I welcome our new visitors from near and far. . ."  
I sighed inwardly with relief. A ritual, a holiday. Nothing that involved a battle. Just a people celebrating. . .not people, exactly. . .a celebration  
Chapman paused, then turned on a projector. A 3-D projector, something I'd never seen before. Something that definitely was not human made.  
I looked at the scenes displayed. Beautiful scenes, scenes of other planets that seemed almost surreal, heavenly.  
It had to be fine. There wasn't any danger, not with such beauty. It couldn't exist.  
I was safe. I was home. . .  
I cried out with a changed voice.  
  
************************  
  
Elena screamed, a kestrel's screech. It made everyone jump, and it made the presentation of figures and statistics grind to a halt.  
Chapman moved away from the diagram illustrating the finances and space available for constructing a second infestation pier and looked around.  
<Quiet!> Jake said. <What are you doing?!>  
No answer. I felt a glimmer of worry that forced itself deep into my mind.  
<Get out of here, now, before they see you!> Jake screamed, half at Elena, half at the others.  
Elena didn't move. The others began to dart away.  
Jake continued, telling everyone to move. Rachel, Tobias, Ax; they all got away.  
I was the only one left, and I was supposed to leave. They would never notice one bird, and that would be what they saw. A single, small, bird.  
I extended my owl's wing, and covered the kestrel. . .Elena. . .with it as I turned so that my back faced the meeting.  
I knew that my back would blend into the bark. It had to.  
I could feel the eyes crossing my back. I could feel them!  
<Elena, come on, snap out of it!!!>  
She stirred as the eyes--and I knew, for certain, that this was true--turned away.  
<Elena!>  
Suddenly, she was again focused, and again ready to leave.  
<Weird. . .maybe we should. . .uh. . .go. Yes, definitely go.> She looked at me. <Thanks. . .>  
Then she took off, as the rest of us headed to shelter, wondering what had happened.  
  
I stared at the blackboard, confused not only by the strange numbers, but by myself.  
All the others had seen more missions than I had. They'd been shot at, injured, almost killed. I'd gone on two. Only one with any violence.  
So why was I cracking? Now, when there wasn't anything going on, when the worst had to be over, when I'd not even seen the worst. Why me, why now?  
It was just a simple mission; we just wanted to spy on a meeting of the Sharing. They did that a lot, just to keep up with any developing Yeerk plans. No big deal.  
But I'd frozen, right when we were supposed to be leaving. When the two-hour limit was running out, I'd frozen, unable to move, or even think.   
i<Elena, come on, snap out of it!!!>/i  
Peter. I'd nearly gotten him killed, or trapped, or worse. All of them. I'd nearly destroyed all of them.  
They'd all been nice about it. Cassie, Peter, Jake; they'd called me, made sure that I'd gotten home all right, told me that I was overreacting. But they had one, unspoken, question.  
What was wrong with me?  
"If you use the formula "negative 'b,' plus-or-minus the square root of 'b' squared minus four. . ."  
What was with me? Visions in my head? An instant of recognition, snatched away as soon as it was realized? Ha. I was delusional; it was almost as if I had a secret past.  
And that was the problem, of course. I didn't have a secret past. I'd lived here all my life, I'd never been out of state. I lived with my parents, and sometimes, yeah, I got a little restless. But that's normal.   
I was fine with my boring memories. They were nice, and soft, and familiar, right back until my very first ones, my very first day of school. I liked them. Except when they started to affect my actions. Like yesterday.  
". . .give you the roots of the parabola. What is this equation called? Elena?"  
I looked up, startled. And I didn't know what the stupid formula was called.  
"It's the. . .uh. . ."  
"The 'I'm Never Going to Use This in Real Life, So I Don't Have to Pay Attention' equation?" His voice was pure venom.  
"Uh, yeah." I smiled gamely. "I think so."  
"Listen, young lady, if you think that you can be smart with me. . ."  
iCome on! If you send me to the office, I am going to be grounded until I'm fifty. Just shut up! Please, drop it!/i  
Suddenly, he stopped talking and blinked a few times. Then, he turned to the rest of the class.  
"This formula is called the quadratic equation. It can be used to. . ."  
What the-  
SURPRISED, ELENA?  
I jumped, and knocked my math book off of my desk. It landed with a loud thump.  
It was the only noise in a silent, still room. No one was moving; no one even seemed to be breathing.  
"All right," I said aloud. "Who are you, what do you want, and what's going on here?"  
An old man with white hair and blue skin appeared, sitting on Kyle Smentowski's desk; Kyle didn't seem to mind.  
"Which question do you want answered first?"  
I gulped. "All of them."  
He laughed. "You're brave, my little Animorph."  
iNo, I'm not./i  
"Listen, why don't you go bother one of the others? I don't really feel like putting up with this, not today."  
"I didn't mean to come at an inconvenient time," he said, "but, really, your day and my appearance go hand in hand."  
"They do? How?" I stood, now nervous, and got ready to back away. To scream for help, although no one could move to help me.  
"Let me begin from the beginning. I am an Ellimist. And you, Elena, are me."  
I looked at him, straight in his unworldly black eyes, and shivered as a chill traveled down my spine.  
"How can I be you?" I didn't want to say that. I wanted to use every curse word in the book. I wanted to condemn him to a thousand horrible deaths.  
I didn't want to encourage him. But I asked anyway.  
"I am not allowed to interfere in the affairs of the universe. I can only watch, observe. I can't change the course of history with my abilities.  
"But you can, Elena. You are me; me as a human. Of course, you believe that you are separate; that's to be expected. But I experience everything that you experience, feel everything that you feel. I am you, and you are me. You just don't realize it."  
My knees turned to jelly, but I kept on standing. "You are not me. What the heck is your--are you a freaked-out Yeerk or something; is that it? I'm not a Yeerk!"   
I stepped forward, and took a swing at him. My ill-aimed, inexperienced punch hit air.  
No, it wasn't badly aimed. It had gone right through him.  
"Somewhere, deep inside, you know it's true. You came back from death. You just happened to run across your friends. Those things just don't happen. Look in this mirror-" there was now a compact in his hand- "and you'll see your face. It's a human face, an ordinary face."  
I looked, and saw dark brown hair, hazel eyes, and ordinary skin. A pretty enough face, absolutely normal, if a bit young-looking. Nothing to get all excited about.  
Nothing, of course, that would make me stand out. Nothing that would make me any more than a model of a-  
No, I would not say the word.  
"It's true," he repeated, gently. "I'm sorry, but it's true."  
I looked at him, eyes burning, and I felt a hot moisture on my cheeks.  
Tears.   
My hand moved up to my face to wipe them away. . .  
Suddenly, we were in an alley that was as still as my math class. It was deserted, but familiar. Too familiar.  
Fear gripped my body. The last time I was here, I'd. . .  
That wasn't important. That wasn't the issue, not here. The old man, he was the problem now.  
"You just need to relax, Elena. It won't take long, and I promise that it won't hurt."  
He was there. The Ellimist was there.  
"You don't remember everything that I remember. You don't have my knowledge, my wisdom. If you relax, I can give you that. My experience, my knowledge, my wisdom."  
His voice was gentle, soothing. His repeated words and phrases drilled through my skull and imprinted themselves on my brain. They attempted to cloud my mind, to fill it with cleansing fog.  
One thing, though, stood stark black and white against the gray; he couldn't do this.  
". . .you see," he continued gently, purring, "you never really existed. You were always just a part of me. Just a part of a whole. Now, though, you can be what you truly are. You can become me."  
He placed his hands on my shoulders, and, like a doll, I remained still.  
I could feel him rising in me. I could feel him! It scared me, a presence in my brain. Something in there that wasn't me. . .  
Or was it?  
No. It couldn't be me. I couldn't do this to someone.  
I'd killed a man.  
I didn't know.  
No.  
I fell to my knees. He crouched  
This was wrong.  
This was murder.  
I was going to die, and no one was going to know that I was dead.  
No.  
No!  
iNo!/i  
  
**********************  
  
I found myself in an alley, jerked roughly from English class to a slum. I looked around. Everything was still. Everything. Not even the dust in the air, nor the ants on the ground, moved.  
Except for those around me. Those who fought with me. And a shape half hidden in shadow.  
Two shapes. An old man, with skin that was- no, it couldn't be, it was- blue. And Elena. Her knees, her legs were bloody. The old man's hands were on her shoulders. She was shaking slightly.  
I rushed forward, disregarding Jake's cry of "wait!".  
"You. . .let her go!!" My hands reached forward to shake him away, but they went right through his shoulders. Desperately, I grabbed Elena and yanked her away from him.  
"How did you. . ." he said, then paused, looking at Elena. "Oh."  
"What are you? Who are you? What were you doing?"  
No reply.  
"Tell me!"  
No reply. The others were walking towards us, slowly, afraid. I turned to Elena.  
"Are you all right?"  
No reply. Only a blank gaze that scared me more than anything else could have.  
"Please, answer me. Wake up, stop it, answer me!"  
"Who. . .?"  
I looked up at the old man, knowing that something I didn't understand was blazing in my eyes. Knowing that anything that he had done was a violation of a child. A destructive march done on a delicate flowerbed.  
I wanted to hurt him. I wanted to cry out. I wanted him to make it better.  
"Perhaps. . .perhaps now is not the best time," he said. "Later, maybe, would be better. There is still time, I think."  
He disappeared, leaving us in the alley alone.  
Elena's eyes focused on me, inquisitive.   
"Peter, how did you. . ."  
I put my hands on her shoulders. "Don't do that to me again! Ever!"   
Then, my arms were around her, briefly, as the others approached us.  
"Hey, that was-"  
A perceived brightness struck.  
I was in English class.  
  
*******************  
  
I found myself back in my math class. People, my classmates, were rising from their desks and heading towards the door.  
It was the end of the day. I could leave. I could go home. There, I could break down, cry, and wish for everything to be better.  
But it wouldn't be better. I knew that, and the fact weighed my shoulders down as I trudged into the hallway.  
Peter came running up to me. Top speed. His face was pale, and his eyes shiny. He looked feverish, but I knew that he wasn't. He was worried, he was confused and scared and right now he was thinking-  
I didn't know what he was thinking.  
"Elena!" he shouted. Then, quietly, "what was he trying to do? Did he-?"  
"I'm fine," I said, surprised by the sharpness in my voice. Peter stepped back, and I winced, abashed.   
"Listen, I didn't mean to. . . I'm scared. And I think that you should stay away from me."  
"I'm sorry, whatever I did. . .God, Elena, please-"  
"Stay away!" I ran down the hallway and out the door, leaving the rest of the school to stare at me, and, hopefully, for Peter to hate me.  
  
******************  
  
I followed Elena through the parking lot and across the street, towards the mall. I knew that she didn't want me to follow; I knew that she would be mad.  
I went after her anyway. I didn't know why.  
She finally stopped running when she reached the Cinnabon. I reached her just as she was sitting down in a white-painted metal chair. When she saw me, she started to get up, then seemed to sag back into her seat. "I give up."  
I pulled out a chair at the same table and sat down next to her. "Look, I'm not going to leave you alone, no matter what you say. You're just going to have to deal with me, and I'll have to help you deal with whatever this Ellimist guy wants."  
She sighed, eyes closed, then looked up at me. "This isn't right."  
"I don't mean that we should go--go out." I found myself stammering a little. "I just--just meant that I'd be there for you. That's all."  
She laughed, and part of me felt better. "That's not what I meant, I--something's happening. And we're supposed to be there. . .except we aren't. Or we're not doing the right thing, or. . .I don't know what. I'm just scared, and I'm scared of him."  
"If you don't know what it is, worrying about it isn't going to help." I put my arm around her shoulder. "Come on. Whatever this thing is, we'll beat it. I promise."  
I felt her lean against my side and relax for a few moments, then drew back as her muscles tensed underneath my arm. "What is it? What's wrong?"  
"I know how to fix things. . .or to start fixing them." She blinked. "I don't know how I know, but I know."  
"How?"  
I felt a chill go up and down my back as she looked at me; it wasn't a bad feeling.   
"I can change the past. . .I can change what happened before. . .but I wouldn't know them. . .I wouldn't know you. . ." She trailed off. "Forget about it."  
"Can you take me with you?" The words were out of my mouth before I could think about what I was saying.  
"Then they wouldn't know you--your friends, I mean. They wouldn't remember giving you the power, wouldn't remember you at all. I can't let you do that."  
"You're not letting me." I looked at her. "I'd follow you anywhere."  
"That's another thing. . ." She shook her head slightly. "You're sure?"  
I couldn't hesitate. "Yes."  
"Then take my hand."  
I felt her fingers, small and smooth, cool in my palm, as I grasped her hand. Then a moment later, I saw nothing. 


End file.
